This was a disappointing read in all. I went into this with high expectations but found that it didn't meet them. The characters seemed a little 2D and underdeveloped and as if they needed more work. The writing was fine but it honestly didn't really stand out to me. There were a few moments i liked in this but overall an underwhelming piece.

Meet Sofie. Her journey of sexual discovery begins when she loses her virginity to Walter, a recruitment consultant. Naturally, she assumed things could only get better from there. She was wrong.

Sofie has been mistaken about many things. She initially believed she was interested in men: wrong. Then she met Frida and thought she had found her life partner: wrong again. Facing the truth about herself requires navigating a complex web of trial and error. Will Sofie ever manage to untangle the complicated threads of sex, love, loneliness, family relationships, and grief that weave together to form a life? Does it even matter?

This book offers a fun and intriguing exploration of a personal journey, blurring the lines between fiction and non-fiction in a captivating way. It brings to light voices and perspectives that are often underrepresented in both fiction and auto-fiction.

Although the tone of the book didn't completely resonate with me, it remained a fascinating read.

While I did ultimately enjoy this read it was a little disappointing. It started off very well and then kind of just dissolved into nothing and lost momentum.

This book is a fun and interesting romp through a personal story, but playing with the lines of fiction and non-fiction in a fascinating way. It reveals voices we don't hear enough of in fiction and auto-fiction.

Although I was not completely sold on the tone of the book, and sometimes found that it raced too quickly through some of the more interesting aspects of what it had to say, it is still an eye-opening and interesting book.

I received an advanced copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

I received this ebook ARC from NetGalley and Granta Books in exchange for a free and honest review.

This was a coming of age story with Sofie as the protagonist. She has very relatable struggles e.g., questioning her sexuality, dealing with parental illness, mental health issues, eating disorders and toxic romantic relationships. The book was in a stream of conscious manner so it was not told in chronological order. Overall, a good read.

I really tried to read this book. The title intrigued me but it wasn't what I expected - the book has a memoir-esque writing style that very quickly failed to hold my attention, I found myself having to re-read over and over again. The langauge is often redudant and repetitive and this it feel clunky, this could be because its a translation.

Unfortunately, I DNFed it before I hit the 20% mark because I was not enjoying it but this my experince and it might be different for someone else reading it.

[Thank you to Netgalley and Granta for providing me with an e-arc for an honest review]

I had high expectations for this book but unfortunately had to DNF it after 35% as I could not connect with the writing at all. Puruse
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this ARC.

My favourite thing about this book is its brutal honesty. Tobi Lakmaker talks directly to the reader as he details the history of his sexuality. In a way, the narration gave me Catcher in the Rye vibes, which I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it reminded me of until it is mentioned in the book itself. The story is before he transitioned and includes relationships with both men and women, and all the details and stories in between with people he met along the way. I found it jumped around a bit time wise, which I found quite disorienting at first, but going with the flow, I found it came together for a profound and beautiful ending. From dry humour to profound thoughts on loneliness and grief, this book is honest, funny and reflective.

The History of My Sexuality is written in a direct, lively, intelligent prose that works very well in the first part. In it, the protagonist describes her sexual history, including a lacklustre deflowering by a very boring guy, a brief relationship with a giant douchebag and a subsequent reorientation towards women. I liked how easy it was to read, I liked the commentary on being a lesbian and how people perceive it, I liked the very millennial style of narration. It felt fresh despite following what we`ve come to expect from "sexual millenial/GenX"-prose.

However, I liked all this much less in the second of three parts, in which we go back in time and follow the clearly author-inspired protagonist into her studies. The irreverent voice became annoying, grating and... empty. Do you know those cool people who have often been told that they are very smart and very beautiful, and who try to be deep by telling you so indirectly, while claiming to be neither? It is a bit like that. The narrator just tries so hard with the tone. It becomes artificial. I am not sure if it got worse in the second part, or if I could only take it for the length of the first, but I stopped enjoying the reading and started rolling my eyes. It is self-deprecating, ironic in a way, but still trying so hard to make you see how special and smart and genius someone is. Some of it is like fake self-reflection. Maybe it's the flippant use of philosophers, the name-dropping without taking anything seriously - I don't know, but it made me think about just putting down a book that I really liked before. It is a lot of hot air.

The third part is a bit stronger. Not the emotional revelation for me that it clearly was for others, but in the description of grief we get something real - sometimes. The incessant joking / breaking of tone was a bit annoying, it is less 'authentic' than seeming to show an inability to remain vulnerable and see oneself as one was. Still, it stopped being so empty and I enjoyed it a lot more.

All in all... It is a bit of a pose, it is a bit too cool and flippant and it tries very hard. However, it is also a great representation that takes the ambiguity and fluidity of gender seriously and can serve as a book for many people to find themselves in, so - not as good as hoped, but still a good read and for some people maybe even an excellent one. I just wished I had liked reading it a bit better,

A young European lesbian can only connect with the world around her through having sex with a string of women (‘Sex distances me from death, although it doesn’t bring me closer to life’*; ‘Honestly, I don’t really care what happens during sex – as long as I’m not there. I just needed somewhere to disappear to.’**) In bed, she prefers to play a masculine role, and is proud of her sexual prowess: ‘We’ve fucked all afternoon like animals on the verge of extinction. If I were male, I definitely would have gotten her pregnant’*;’I know it might sound like I’m bragging here, but I actually made her come. And a few hours later, I did it again. That kind of thing makes me grin’.** In her spare time, she reads incessantly, working her way through philosophers like Wittgenstein, and thinks about suicide. Near the end of her story, however, a family crisis draws her into connection with others, and with herself, in ways that she hadn’t anticipated. This debut novel is not an autobiographical account: but it’s certainly a kind of auto-fiction, in dialogue with the writer’s own experiences.

Tobi Lakmaker’s The History of My Sexuality (trans. Kristen Gehrman) is in eerily close conversation with Eva Baltasar’s Permafrost (trans. Julia Sanches) for two books that I don’t think can be in direct conversation (Baltasar’s book was first published in Catalan in 2018; Lakmaker’s in Dutch in 2021). Both, though, brilliantly inhabit the consciousness of their lesbian narrators, talking frankly about the experience of being a lesbian in a way I’ve found very rare in contemporary English-language fiction, which tends to think ‘representation’ is just ‘this book has two women in it who fancy each other’. Both Sofie, who narrates The History of My Sexuality, and the unnamed narrator of Permafrost, struggle with how other women respond to them. In particular, straight women often suggest that there is nothing wrong with liking other women, but there is something wrong with being visibly lesbian, masculine-presenting, or solely same-sex attracted.

Sofie played football all through high school: ‘Lots of girls on our [football] team were temporary lesbians. They’d find themselves a girlfriend, and say “I’m only into her – and men.” That kind of stuff makes me incredibly sad. People would rather die than be only into women.’ She also struggles when she meets the family of her first girlfriend: ‘The only thing her mother said to me was “I imagined you with long hair.” Her mother was the worst: the kind of person who says it’s wonderful when her daughter turns out to be into women but wants to throw herself off a cliff when she finds out the girl she’s dating is so noticeably a lesbian.’ Even the girlfriend herself is uncomfortable with a certain kind of identity: 'We started talking about her overalls, about which she said, "These aren't lesbian dungarees. I'm just a lesbian in dungarees. Which is something else entirely." It's weird, but lesbians are always very afraid of being lesbians.'

The History of My Sexuality sounds like it might join the ranks of ‘disaster woman’ novels at first but is totally distinguished by Sofie’s voice, which is as honest and compelling as some of the best lesbian stand-up comedy I’ve seen. When somebody asks her if her dead mother left her with any life lessons, she reflects, ‘and suddenly I remembered: ‘”Never ride through red lights on Wibautstraat”. That’s what my mother taught me, you know? “You can ride through red anywhere else, but not on Wibaustraat.” I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Because you know what’s funny? I always do.’ This is just a fantastic one-off: I don’t think I’ve read anything else like it.

I received a free proof copy of this novel from the publisher for review.

*Baltasar
**Lakmaker

I really enjoyed this fast-paced read — I read it in one sitting which is a rarity for me and a testament to the dark comedy employed as Sofie recounts her life. 
The humor has an edge to it which might not be for everyone but I found unapologetically Dutch and in so being very refreshing to see rendered into English.
As a queer person living in Amsterdam, I loved that almost every location that Sofie visited in Amsterdam was named as it was fun to trace the places the character and I both have experiences of — particularly, De Trut and lots of bruin cafés! I also really enjoyed the football references!
Frenetically, Sofie tries to distract us through many a mishap and adventure in a bid to avoid discussing Sofie’s grief. The ending is particularly affecting and arguably the book suffers from some pacing issues towards the end, as we hurtle towards it. On the other hand, I think the abruptness is intentional of Lakmaker’s part and testament to Sofie’s twentysomething messiness!

I'd actually give this 3.5, but I can't and so I'm not going to score the author down for that.

The story of Sofie and what a story it is, sadness, anxiety and being trapped in your head. I can empathise.

Really well written, I really liked how the story unfolded. I'd definitely read more by the author, as long as translated of course!

*Spoilers removed*

The History of My Sexuality follows Sofie in Amsterdam as she grapples with growing up, sex, love, loneliness, family, school, relationships and grief. She tells tales of mishaps and triumphs with lots of bravado, though it is clear she is still grappling with her identity,

Told in a funny, conversational style, The History of My Sexuality was an enjoyable read. At times it felt a little clunky, which contributed to the emotional climax of the book not hitting its potential, for me.

Overall, I would recommend!

Many thanks to the publishers and Netgalley for an advance copy of this novel in exchange for my honest views.

This was such a refreshing read and really made me think of what 'Catcher in the Rye' would be written by a non binary queer person. It was such a frank book with a voice that felt entirely conversational and whilst seemingly hamphazard was crafted in such a way that made you constantly re-evaluated what you had learned about Sofi. It gave a vivid picture of a stage of life what maybe continues longer than it used to, of not being sure who you are, and the different forms this can take. I was struck by how uncomfortable the protagonist was in their body and how ill at ease they felt in being complimented. I think this book would really speak to young people struggling with their identity, and be a great one for parents to read also. An original voice that I can't wait to hear more from!

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for approving me of an ARC.

Sadly, I have to say that I had to DNF this book. This book reads like a memoir but in the beginning, it jumped straight into Sofie's story without any introduction which I'm not a fan of in any kind of writing. I think what threw me off as well is the translation. I was expecting something more profound to get from this book as someone in their 20s also still searching for her identity but I wasn't really getting it (although I did relate to Sofie's feelings about anxiety and her loneliness).

I have reviewed The History of My Sexuality by Toni Lakmaker for book recommendation and selling site LoveReading.co.uk. I’ve chosen the title as a Liz Pick of the Month. Please see the link for the full review.

Sophie’s in her twenties living her life she shares her experiences her ups and down.Told in her unique voice this was an engaging read that I really enjoyed.#netgalley #granatabooks.

I wanted to read this because I have connections to the Netherlands and several LBHQ (etc) friends. Unfortunately this book missed the mark for me on both aspects. The descriptions of Dutch life, Dutch celebrities and traditions does not mean very much to a non Dutch person . Regarding the sexuality aspect, I wanted more than alist of Sofie's sexual partners. (S)he wants to be more boy, that's fine and explains some of the earlier described interactions with others, but I am left wondering what she means ie does she have problems with her body ? Why ? Theparts of the book about her family seemed tacked on .Overall it felt like different experiences thrown together without too much coherence.
This book did not work for me, the translation felt a little too clunky and for that reason I may try to read it in Dutch. The book could improve with a few tweaks . Thanks to Net Galley for the ARC

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC!

I was so sure I’d love this one, a twentysomething queer person (the book uses she/her pronouns for Sofie) who spent a lot of her life thinking she liked men but then it turned out she liked women… but unfortunately I found the narration to be a little contrived and in a lot of places the humour didn’t land. I know how tricky it is to translate humour, not only technically but also in the sense that every nation’s sense of humour will differ - well, every person’s does but British humour will likely land very differently to Dutch humour.

The book is episodic and nonlinear, with Sofie leading the reader through little snapshots of her life. We witness her first (disappointing) sexual experience with a man, sit in on terrifying Russian lessons (some of the strongest portions in terms of humour actually), scratch our heads with Sofie as she tries to get to grips with lesbian dating, and mourn with her when her mother dies fairly young of cancer. The strongest sections for me were the Russian escapades and the poignant exploration of her mother’s decline and death.

I believe this book is autofiction, but it reads much like an internet essay. It tries a little too hard to be zany, and I think it might have been better off as a collection of essays.

Also a small thing that ended up bugging me - a phrase is used throughout the Dutch version (from what I gleaned from Dutch reviews) - ‘snap je’. Google translate gives ‘do you understand’. The translator Kristen Gehrman has gone for ‘you know?’ throughout the English. Sofie, the protagonist, uses ‘snap je’ like a vocal tic, but it must work more in Dutch, because the English ‘you know’ just did not fit naturally in a lot of the places it was used. Maybe Gehrman could have switched it up sometimes with ‘you get me?’ Or ‘you feel me?’ A tiny thing but I couldn’t unnotice it and it really began to bug me 👀

Overall a little bit disappointing given my high expectations, but not without its strong points and a fresh queer voice from the Netherlands.

DNF’d after reading 60%.
Maybe it’s the translation but I found some of the language used unnecessary and just over all did not enjoy this.
Found the writing hard to keep up with and boring. I found myself reading the same page 5 times because it just wasn’t holding my attention.